Sword, Blood, and Ice
by Elven Nimue
Summary: Touchstone once lived in Belisaere with his half-brother and best friend Rogir. However, an evil passion is ignited in Rogir's heart when a Clayr comes to the palace. A passion of Necromancy and dark sorcery. Spoils ALL THREE BOOKS!
1. The Soiled Tunic of Prince Rigan

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Sword, Blood, and Ice

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Old Kingdom Trilogy. Garth Nix does. I own the original characters.

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Summary: Touchstone once lived in Belisaere with his half-brother and best friend Rogir. When the Queen receives a new lady-in-waiting from the Clayr's Glacier known as Vlare. The three become close friends and an evil passion is ignited in Rogir's heart. A passion of Necromancy and dark sorcery. 

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Note: This fic **spoils ALL three** Old Kingdom books, it is set when Touchstone's Mother reigned as Queen of Belisaere and Sabriel was just a twinkle in her great-great etc. grandparents' eyes. This fic **will** have some lusty scenes.

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Warnings: Naughty Touchstone.

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The Sword's Tale

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Chapter One: _The Soiled Tunic of Prince Rigan._

Remembrance of King Touchstone ~ I wish I could tell you. I want to tell you. It burns in my heart, all the truth that must be kept hidden from you. The three people I should be able to tell all. One day, I'll let you all know. The other me. My story. The people of my past. All I can say now, my sweet Ellimere, my remarkable Sameth, my darling Sabriel, is that I am sorry. Soon though, I can feel it. ~

"You dirtied your _new, _imported, highly expensive tunic Torrigan!" The boy flinched at the sound of his full name. "How can I make you understand that mud is not a place for a- a-," the tall, dark haired maid with beady eyes fumbled for the correct words for her scold. _A bastard you mean?_ Rigan thought sulkily. He sighed as his eyes became interested with his shoes, and nodded every-once-in-awhile to make it look like he was listening to the maid's rambles and reproaches. 

The woman sighed in defeat, as she knew perfectly well that a boy of seven wouldn't take any interest in her talking. His head was bent and all that could be seen was a sea of brown curls, which wasn't from his mother. She pitied him, even if it wasn't her place to pity him. She kneeled down and began to undo his tunic and asked, "How did it happen Rigan? Did you pretend you were a pig or some other foolish game you and Prince Rogir think up?"

"No, Lyla" he said as he looked up and let her unfold the dirt-soiled wreak of a tunic. "Rogir and I were having a mud _fight_. We are far to old to pretend to be pigs!" Rigan said in a superior tone, as if he were an adult having a sparkling conversation of importance.

"Oh, _well_, pardon me your highness," she jested in return, as she left him in his breeches looking for a replacement tunic. "Be that as it may," her voice turning sterner. "You had no right to spoil your ceremonial tunic for the Midsummer's Eve Festival. Your mother will be furious because it might not clean properly."

Rigan rolled his eyes-"Don't you roll your eyes at me young sire!" Lyla said harshly. "Now, since this tunic is absolutely ruined you can wear the one from Estwael!" The maid gave a look of triumph as the young boy's face went white. 

"Not that one Lyla! I look like a glittering tomato!" He said in horrific rage. Lyla however snorted at the comment. 

"Did Rogir come up with that too?" she asked highly amused.

"No," he said as he eyed the tunic with disgust supreme.

"You don't look like a _glittering tomato._ You look exceedingly handsome in it." She smiled, his brown eyes flashed with distaste.

"I'm not wearing it." Rigan said flatly.

"You are being stubborn, everyone will love you in it!" The tunic was almost decent. It was long with crimson silk fabric, lined with ruby rhinestones, with pink lace cuffs. _Almost _decent.

"Never, ever."

Lyla scoffed, she didn't want this to continue. She'll let the Queen deal with him.

"Fine little master," she placed the red tunic inside the boy's closet and faced him. "_I _will not persuade you to wear the lovely tunic."

Rigan looked pleased with himself and nodded. "I'm glad we came to a conclusion."

The maid arched an elegant black eyebrow. "Indeed."

"May I see Rogir now, we have a surprise for you and it needs a few finishing touches."

Both her eyebrows went up. It was no secret that the duo had a passion for pranks and gags, just the words in his sentence made her a little timid. Lyla glared at the innocent mask the Queen's son Rigan wore.

"I want no _surprises_ from you the two Princes of Belisaere, thank you very much." She sighed and looked at his disappointed face. "Be off with you, go have your fun with Sir Rogir while you still have your youth!" And the boy rushed out of his chamber leaving Lyla to stare after him with suspicion….

~ I loved Lyla; she was a mother to me. More than my real mother at least. The Queen never had time for the bastard son that was I. I never cared until I got older. 

Lyla was young when she started taking care of me, seventeen perhaps when I was seven. I never cared for girls at that age, if I did though I would have thought my 'motherly' figured maid was quite attractive. That emotion would come sooner than expected…~

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Note: First chapter, yay? Or nay? -ElvenJedi

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	2. Lust and Anger

Sword, Blood, and Ice

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Old Kingdom Trilogy. Garth Nix does however. I own the original characters. Another thing…this is a spoiler! A huge spoiler! Beware readers for this story spoils the third book like no other! Well, one really important detail about Touchstone in Abhorsen, but important nonetheless!

Note: Hmm, well reviewers. Let me tell you this: the time periods of this story are going to confuse you. I think. It starts with The Sword's Tale, going from childhood to adulthood. Then Blood's Saga and Ice's Legend are following the same line, all through the same time. Does this make sense?

Rating- This is rated PG-13 because of sexual talk, no action, and not very smutty. 

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The Sword's Tale

Chapter Two: Lust and Anger

Touchstone speaks… My mother was always a busy woman. She had over fifteen ladies-in-waiting.  But, of course, fifteen would not suffice; she needed another one. This one she had requested from the Clayr's Glacier in the north. Rogir and I were not that excited about the new arrival of the flaxen beauty; we had other ladies for company. Even if the dark haired girls of Belisaere did meet all the lusts of the seventeen-year-old Rogir, I had my eyes on a different maiden. 

The lovely Lyla, my lovely Lyla, I often called her to myself. For was there not anything in the palace more precious than the sapphire of her eyes? Oh Lyla, with her midnight hair and slender pale body. I craved her so badly. Did she know I wanted her? Did she torment me from behind her tender words, her graceful sways? My lovely Lyla, will there be a night when you will actually be mine? When you come to me with open arms and say you adore me as I worship you and will you actually desire me? 

Countless times I've had the opportunity to seduce her. But I was too frightened! I was a member of the Guard for the Charters sake, why couldn't I just pluck up the courage to grab her and kiss her like I wanted to?  I would sit on my bed and watch her silently as she tidied my chamber, humming often. I memorized that tune along with the different scolds she would come up with when I dirtied my clothes.

"Rigan. How many times have I requested new tunics and shirts because you get them ripped and torn? And who knows what this stain is on your breeches!" She was so beautiful when she was angry. I would grin and look at her, "Forgive me Lyla?" She would look at me with those lovely blue eyes and sigh. "Don't do it again! Do you like it when I scold you like a child?" Yes, my Lyla. I love it when you scold me. Do it again.

I, of course, never told Rogir this, not actually. I thought he'd probably laugh at my choice and tell Lyla my feelings for her. Rogir had once been kind, but mischievous. Ambitious, but clever. Now his ideas of play had become a little… wicked. His frequent bedding with his ladies were intense and vicious, even if the girls put on their best mask of ecstasy for the agonizing anguish they were almost certainly in fact feeling. But Rogir won much love from the women for his handsome face and charming qualities and remarkably the came back for more. 

We were a duo, but we'd soon be a trio… ~

Prince Rigan, the Captain of the Guard's Apprentice, and bastard son of Queen Alina made his way through the court from another practice with Kimbel, the Queen's Champion. It was a tiresome spar on Kimbel's behalf, being a master swordsman and excellent dueler, but he had agreed to teach the lad a thing or two on the regulations of the sword. Rigan had learned a lot and actually enjoyed the lesson, apart from a few bruises and cuts he earned from Kimbel he fought well and spirited. He thought he deserved a warm bath to wash his sweat stained skin and perhaps later a slice of cheese with the wine that had just come in from Yanyl. 

He came close to his chambers when he saw a servant walk by and thought of this advantage. "Send for Lyla, ask her if she could pour some hot water and ready a bath. I'd like one soon please." The man nodded and headed down the corridor to fetch his Lyla. Rigan grinned to himself as he thought of taking a bath readied by Lyla. Of course, she had always been there to fix his bath along with other things he was perfectly capable of doing himself. 

It was just the fact that Lyla would be there before he undressed to _get _in the bath. He could easily grab her and seduce her to take a bath with him. Rigan opened his bedchamber door as he continued to plot in his head the many ways to share his bed with Lyla.  When a knock came. It was a hurried and impatient knock, and Rigan scoffed at the interruption of his devious thoughts and walked to the door, which he just closed.

Standing in the doorway looking extremely vexed was his half brother Rogir. His hair unlike Rigan's was longer and darker and braided neatly swaying back and forth as he walked. Besides the hair color, any stranger would know they were akin, if not brothers.

"What?" Rigan asked impatiently. Rogir leaned against the door when he closed it and looked at Rigan with bitterness.

"Oh it's nothing, nothing at all friend, companion, brother, absolutely nothing. Just here for a chat." There was a manner in Rogir's jesting that sent a tremor of disquiet.

The brother's eyes flashed dangerously towards each other and Rigan thought what could have put his brother in such a mood. A mood he did not want to see reflected towards him.

Rigan decided to turn the situation around and responded carelessly, "Oh. Well that's good," Rogir made a scoff of disgust as Rigan tried to continue. "Anyway, practice with Kimbel got me rather-"

Rogir didn't take the joke well and approached Rigan with dark eyes flashing. "You haven't been telling me something, _brother_. Something very important something very-" to Rigan's relief, a knock came at the door for the second time and Lyla entered with her usual lovely smile. Her smile half lingered as she saw the two Princes. One with a curious smile upon his tan face, and one with a reproachful glare.

Lyla blinked a couple of times and said, "I hope, my Lords, I have not disturbed you." Rigan knew Lyla feared Rogir a slight. After all, who didn't? He had some mad fixation with Free Magic during these days, no one actually took the future King of Belisaere seriously though, but they tried to keep on his good side. Lyla was very timid around him. It wasn't as if he ordered her savagely to the point of fear, in fact he never really took any notice to her at all, Rogir just happened to have that affect on some (most, Rigan added to himself) people. She, however, was still as polite as possible when in the presence of her Prince Rogir.

Before Rigan could comfort Lyla with sweet words, Rogir's quick and malevolent tongue launched, "No no, lady." He said soothingly. "I'm sure Rigan would be delighted in your company." Lyla raised a suspicious eyebrow as she usually did in such a situation. 

Rigan threw a treacherous glare at Rogir, but his half-brother and best friend just grinned. Rigan had little time to recover. "Lyla don't listen to Rogir," he looked at his friend and gave him a warning glance, turned to Lyla and said lightly, "He's an idiot."

Unlike the apprehensive servants of the palace, Rigan did not fear Rogir in the slightest. He was one of the few. Such a remark would have been rewarded a quick and powerful blow to the nose if another had said it. But Rigan went untouched and smiled at Lyla.

"Oh, Lyla. If it wouldn't be to much trouble, I have a request." Rogir said with tender words.

Lyla set down the basket of folded clothes on Rigan's dresser. Her eyes were calm and mindful, as if she had a feeling where Rogir was leading. "Anything my lord." She said placidly, almost fake.

Rigan had no idea where this was bound for but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be pleasant. He stared back and forth from his brother to his lover (well, he wished she was), trying blinking away his confusion.

"I don't think Rigan is capable of washing his manhood properly; perhaps you could assist him…in more ways than one." Rogir grinned at the speechless servant maid and horror struck Rigan.

After Rogir's scandalous and rather bold request an awkward silence followed. What did Rogir just do? Rigan asked himself. 

"Rogir," Rigan said with quivering anger, his voice faltering every once-in-a-while. "Lyla. Don't listen to him. He's just trying to start trouble. Really, he's just-" he turned fiercely towards the man at his side, who was almost shaking with the laughter the hadn't been erupted yet.

Lyla blinked a couple of times and swallowed. "Your bath is prepared my Lord, I'll be in the servants quarters downstairs, if-if you need me." She curtsied quickly and with a furiously red face left the room.

Once the door closed Rogir burst out into a horrible laugh. Rigan was beyond anger, if he had his blade by his side he would have slain Rogir where he stood.

"You fool!" Rigan shouted at the mirth filled Rogir. He was so angry he could barely form words on his malice soaked tongue.

"A servant wench Rigan?" Rogir chuckled again and faced his half brother and added in a cruel whisper with a wicked grin, "I thought I taught you better."

Rigan clenched his teeth and pointed his finger to Rogir in front of his nose, "What in the hell were you thinking? You rotten, miserable, tormented bastard!" 

Rogir grinned in spite of his friend's anger and added, "I actually have a father, or well knew him once." He added off hand. "If you want to discuss bastards though let's take a look at _your_ lineage."

Rigan glared at his companion, ignoring the offense, it was a trivial insult that had been worn out in his youth, what happened in the last few minutes was far more important. "What were you thinking Rogir?" he asked silently, "Why would you do that?" 

Rogir made a face of disgust and flopped on Rigan's bed. "What do you mean 'why would I do that?' It's sickening. She is lower than you by a considerable amount-"

"Oh!" Rigan interrupted with a growl. "And even if you take innocent maidens off the streets and into your bed for only _one _night, can I not love a woman for eternity?"

The corners of Rogir's lips curved upwards as he said in his normal dark tone, "Oh, _love _is it? Well, if you plan to _love_ her for _eternity _even if she is a wench, then I beg your pardon dear brother." His mocking bow that followed after his honeyed words set Rigan's anger to its limit. 

"Well, Rigan." He made another jesting bow. "I'll leave you to your, ah, _thoughts._" Rogir walked with silent steps to the door but before departing he said, "Mother wants you after you bathe, for Charter's sake you need it if you ever hope of catching the eye of any maiden."

Rigan growled as he grabbed a new tunic from his closet. Grumbling he slammed the door of his bed chamber and stalked off to the bath. 

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_Note:_ Sorry it took forever to update. I've been a little behind. But something of interest: 

_BETA SEARCH_: I need a beta! Email me if you want to beta one of my stories: lirael_abhorsen@hotmail.com please? I need you! I especially need you for this story and a new Silmarillion story that I'm writing. In case you don't know what a beta is, it's a editor to put it bluntly. Thanks so much if you're interested!


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